Page 13

Staying Focused

Dean

“You’re not seriously eating that,” Gavin says, watching with undisguised disgust as I methodically work through my meal prep container. “It looks like lawn clippings mixed with sadness.”

I spear another forkful of grilled chicken and quinoa. “It’s protein and complex carbs.”

“It’s depressing is what it is.” He glances down at his own tray—loaded with pasta, garlic bread, and what the dining hall optimistically labels ‘marinara sauce’—and grins. “Carb-loading. Coach approved.”

“Coach tolerates,” I correct him. “Because you’re fast despite your terrible diet.”

The athlete dining hall is crowded this time of day, the noise level hovering just below headache-inducing. Most tables are occupied by groups—the swim team by the windows, women’s soccer near the entrance, our hockey teammates scattered throughout. Gavin and I claimed our usual corner spot, slightly removed from the chaos.

It’s part of our routine—Thursday lunch between strength training and afternoon classes. Usually, I appreciate the predictability, the structure. Today, I’m finding it hard to focus on anything except the hours ticking by until tonight.

Nora. In my apartment. Again.

The memory of our last time together surfaces unbidden—her on her knees, looking up at me with those clear, intelligent eyes. The way she responded to my commands, not with meek submission but with an eager curiosity that made something crack open in my chest.

“Hello? Earth to Carter?” Gavin waves a hand in front of my face. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

I blink, refocusing. “Sorry. What?”

“I asked if you’re coming to Stevens’ party Friday night.” He narrows his eyes. “What’s going on with you lately? You’re even more spacey than usual.”

“Nothing. Just thinking about the biometric sensors for my project.” The lie comes easily. “Whitman thinks we need to recalibrate.”

It’s safer than admitting I’ve been thinking about how Nora looks on her knees, how she sounds when she comes, how her analytical mind surrenders to sensation under my hands.

“If you say so.” Gavin takes an enormous bite of garlic bread. “But you’re coming Friday. Doctor’s orders. You need to socialize with actual humans occasionally.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That means no.” He points his fork at me accusingly. “Come on, man. You’ve been a ghost since the Daphne thing. It’s been, what, a month?”

I shrug. “Something like that.”

“See? That’s not healthy. You need to get back out there. Meet people. Preferably people who are into monosyllabic responses and intense eye contact.”

I take a deliberate bite of my meal, chewing slowly to avoid responding. If Gavin knew what—who—I’ve actually been doing, he’d never let it go. It’s easier to let him think I’m still hung up on Daphne than to explain what’s happening with Nora.

Not that I could explain it if I wanted to. What Nora and I are doing doesn’t fit into easy categories.

“Oh, here we go,” Gavin mutters, his attention shifting to something over my shoulder. “Incoming at two o’clock.”

Before I can turn around, a female voice says, “Dean? Hi!”

I look up to see Ava Chen standing beside our table, holding a salad container and smiling brightly. I recognize her vaguely as being from the track team—one of Daphne’s wider social circle, though not a close friend.

“Hey,” I respond, not quite a question but definitely not an invitation.

She seems undeterred. “I heard you and Daphne broke up. That’s too bad.”

Gavin coughs into his drink, poorly disguising a laugh. I shoot him a warning look before turning back to Ava.

“Yeah. It happens.” I take another bite of my lunch, hoping my lack of engagement will end the conversation.

“Totally. Anyway, I was thinking maybe we could grab coffee sometime? I always thought your biomedical engineering focus was fascinating. I’d love to hear more about it.”

Her interest in biomedical engineering is about as genuine as the ‘cheese’ on the dining hall pizza. I can feel Gavin watching with amused interest, waiting to see how I’ll handle this.

“I appreciate the offer,” I say, keeping my voice neutral, “but I’m not looking to date right now. I’m focusing on the Archer Initiative application.”

Ava’s smile falters slightly. “Oh! I didn’t mean like a date. Just, you know, academic networking.”

“Right,” I say, not believing it for a second. “Still, my schedule’s pretty packed between hockey and research.”

“No worries!” Her smile resets to its previous brightness, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Maybe another time. Good luck with your application!”

She walks away with as much dignity as possible, joining a table of her friends who immediately bend their heads together in hushed conversation.

“Dude,” Gavin says the moment she’s out of earshot. “That was cold.”

I shrug. “Better than leading her on.”

“Who says you’d be leading her on? She’s cute. Pre-med. Probably great with her hands.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes. “Not interested.”

“In her specifically, or in dating generally?”

“Both.”

Gavin studies me for a moment, then leans forward, lowering his voice. “Hold up. Is there someone else? You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

My stomach tightens. Gavin’s known me too long not to pick up on shifts in my behavior. “No.”

“Bullshit.” He grins, victorious. “You have! That’s why you’re distracted all the time. That’s why you turned down Ava without even considering it.” His eyes widen with a new thought. “Is it someone Daphne knows? Is that why you’re being so secretive?”

He’s too close to the truth. I need to shut this down before he guesses more.

“There’s no one,” I say firmly. “I’m focused on hockey and the Archer Initiative. That’s it.”

He looks skeptical. “You’re a terrible liar, Carter.”

“And you’re delusional.” I check the time on my phone—1:47. I have a class at 2:00, then practice, then a lab meeting with Whitman. After that, finally, Nora.

The anticipation has been building all day, a low hum beneath my skin that makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. I’ve been thinking about what I want to do with her tonight. How I want to push her a little further, take her a little deeper into surrender. See how far I can push.

“There it is again,” Gavin says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “That look. You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you?”

“I’m thinking about biometrics,” I counter, gathering my empty container. “And how I’m going to be late for Mechanical Systems if you don’t drop this.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. But just know—” he points at me with what remains of his garlic bread “—I will figure it out eventually.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.” I stand, shouldering my bag. “See you at practice.”

As I head out of the dining hall, I pull out my phone and text Nora:

Still on for tonight?

Her response comes quickly:

Yes. 9 p.m.

Then, a moment later:

Looking forward to it.

Those three simple words shouldn’t affect me the way they do. We’ve established boundaries. Keep it physical. No emotional entanglement. No complications.

But something about the small admission—that she’s thinking about tonight too, anticipating it the way I am—sends a surge of satisfaction through me.

I pocket my phone and head toward my next class, a slight smile playing at the corner of my mouth. Six hours until Nora.

Six hours until I can stop pretending I’m thinking about anything else.